With Age Comes Power: Part 2
by Sidicious
Summary: Prequel to 'With Age Comes Power'. An infamous Blood Countess kidnaps a victim whom Lance believes would make a better predator than prey. Pre-Josef. O/C  Amelia  I created and Lance.


**With Age Comes Power**

1609 Hungary... Csejte Castle

The day bled to a halt as dusk settled with a tremor over the horizon.

"Bring her forward."

The command spoken in fluent Hungarian was met with a wave of rabid overzealousness.

"With _pleasure_." Her favorite of the courtet suddenly brandished a small serrated blade and swiftly prodded with a relish upon the ivory collar bone of their most recent visitor.

Her angelic features hit the dirt with a bone crunching force. The heel of an unforgiving boot repeatedly thrashed bone and lacerated flesh.

The Lady took it all in with dark appraisal. Finally, the dark crimson locked visitor rose to her knees refusing to let the frost penetrate her ilit undergarments.

A low rasp bordering upon a growl escaped a pair of rose tinted lips. _Tweaking_ they crack into a bemused grin crackling with condensation.

Raising a provocative eyebrow, a pair of large dark emerald pools that practically bordered on black in the moonlight pierced with a defiant steel.

"_C'mon_ you can do better than that." the recent visitor stared with something the Lady had never come across before.

Defiant to the last.

Turning her head up to the Lady's favorite, the visitor tilted her head at the maladroit grip aperture upon the handle of the blade.

"You've never cut a chicken's neck before have you? (the unusual hue of those dark eyes penetrated with a _knowing_) Why don't you give the blade to someone who knows what they're doing?"

A single dark orb watched intently from the shadows.

The Lady felt an flush of anger heat her infamous timeless features that were beginning to ebb.

"You have been _quite_ a challenge. (a pregnant pause as those cold rum orbs drank in their most recent visitor) More than most. Three weeks in the chamber even."

The recent visitor shivered but there was something in that gaze that refused to yield - fire roared like the blackest hell the Lady unleashed in her most secret place.

Not once had she seen it. Every poke and prod exerted with a thirst she couldn't quench. She watched their eyes. _Always_. Looking for that moment when they wanted it.

That's when she prolonged it further.

The most recent visitor leaned forward meeting the Countess's embroiled gaze at this.

"What you're looking for...(chokes on a spurt of blood in her throat, clears) you will never get."

The stranger in the shadows lobes perked at this.

Her favorite servant Dorota thrust a nearby staff at the base of the visitor's head. The emaciated svelte form slumped unconscious to the castle grounds floor once more.

It was almost 10 degrees outside. Even her girls teeth chattered. Snow was a certainity before morning.

"Douse her with water from the well. Leave her outside till noon. Then put her back on the rack." The countess commanded

"Yes mam." Dorota and her girls said in unison.

A rich mesmeric voice instantly enveloped the disconerting site into silence.

"Erzebeth. Have you _ever_ met such an insumortable will before?"

A tall jet-haired perfectly coiffed and equally striking man emerged from the shadows leaving all to gasp as he approached. He was a sensual feast for women to bask in exuding a confidence and strength that even men were drawn to.

As he grew closer, they drank in a rather disconcerting rarity-one electric blue orb and the other was a predatorial black.

"Your liege." The Countess bowed noting how raptly that dark orb drank in the unconscious visitor

Suddenly, he crouched with an elegant grace before the young woman rendered into an induced slumber.

Gingerly, he lifted her temple and clasped the sides of her cheekbones - even through the blood and dirt their dimensions were quite exquisite.

His lips graced her left lobe leaving the Countess and her servants in the dark.

The countess narrowed her gaze considerably as he whispered something in the young woman's lobes.

At this exact moment, Lance turned and gave Erzebeth a wicked look.

**Blood On The Moon**

The Dungenon...Next full moon

A sliver of light ghosted this creation's etheral features and the man with the miscolored eyes gleamed like an archaic riddle against the granite wall.

His black eye probed deeper and detected a steady heart beat. A cheshire cat grin erupted at the corners of those rather sensual olive lips of his as he strode purposefully forward.

Leaning over, his long elegant fingers crooked a misaligned dark auburn lock and positioned it carefully behind her right lobe.

She stirred slightly as those smooth ivory tips undid the leather straps binding her right wrist. The ilet undergarments were a near perfect match for the frosty-blue appearance of her flesh.

Fighting to open her eyelids, as dehydration and exhaustion battled for dominance within a willfull force of nature. Finally, the visitor opened her eyelids on pure adrenaline - her body distinctly in prime mode.

Waiting for her vision to align and for _them_ to enter it, the indomitable visitor allowed the shadows and the beings they belonged to realign.

There was a familiarity to this rather tour de force of a man with a rather chiding lascivious smirk. That black eye that burned her dark green: something in them that saw what lie in the abyss.

Fuel stormed those gorgeous orbs of hers as the man with the miscolored eyes took a seat on the rack next to her. His smirk deepened at this.

A dawning realization hit like a panaromic slide show of torture, sadism and dehumination sank over her.

With what little energy she had left, she sat up until she met his haughty bemused gaze.

"You're the one who stood there and watched!" Something **tweaked** with the fires of hell that not even the Countess had witnessed.

All until now.

"You really hate that you couldn't save yourself?" Lance acknowledged the icy glare, his entrancing voice seeped into her very being "Don't you?"

**He really had watched.** Witnessed her at the most dehuminizing state. Seen her.

She returned his condescending tone, with a rather disconcerting feral grin.

"Voyerist for kinks are we?" It was her turn to smirk.

"Depends what I'm looking at. You see everyone wears a mask cherub. (flashes her a signature condescending grin) I am priviliged to witness what they won't show other people. And when people are at their most desperate state, the cracks expose their 'other' most primal self. Especially when they are about to die..."

There was something lethal in this miscolored man's striking features at this moment.

"Do you remember what I said to you a few nights ago?"

Something terrible flashed considerably in her orbs as he flit with inhuman speed hovering at the base of her neck.

"I don't care what it takes. You come near me and I WILL END YOU!" her tone filled with venom

Lance broke into an attractive grin - he liked her even more.

Relaxing his palm just above her nearly exposed breasts, those alluring olive lips carressed her rose tinted full lips. He could taste dried blood, salt and above all rage. They were a bit raw and dry from the torture but there was something in them that were addictive to the touch.

He felt her pulse quicken unwantongly as his tongue probed seeking entrance into her mouth. His breathing had gone shallow matching her own.

_There was no need for this to be unpleasant._

And with that, two pearly fangs descended and bit down. Immediately, she flailed against him prompting Lance to forcibly mount her - pinning her svelte body underneath his. That black eye of his instinctively waiting for that moment near death.

**She glared up at him the entire time - A sort of How Dare You!**

Her large piercing dark orbs fueled emerald fire. Lance could tell as she began to take her last breaths that despite the fear, her rage kept pressing on.

"I..(rasps deeply)..promise to kill you."

As death beckoned, so did he, piercing deeply Lance offered the blood at those tantalizing lips of hers.

Her heartbeat was fading and she was being stubborn.

Prying apart her lips, Lance squeezed blood from his wound.

Within moments, he felt the power humming off her like heat. Without warning, Amelia hoisted his arm and hurled him across the room.

Lance slammed into a body, chortled and instantly righted himself.

Suddenly, Amelia pressed him against the dungeon wall - her breathing ragged.

"I warned you."

And with that she bit like a feral heathen into his neck.


End file.
